


Knit Two Together

by blackash26



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora Learns to Knit, Adora's relationship with authority figures, Friendship, Gen, Knitting, Lightly Implied Catradora, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Past Light Spinner/Castaspella, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 17:52:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16958724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackash26/pseuds/blackash26
Summary: “Adora, we live in a complicated world where our decisions, ourmistakes, have real consequences. But this” – Castaspella reached out and touched the tangled mess in Adora’s hands – “this is just yarn. No one’s life hangs in the balance when you drop a stitch or mess up your gauge. You can choose to keep going or rip it out and start again. It’s up to you, and you alone. And there are no wrong answers.”





	Knit Two Together

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write about Adora learning to knit. And then character development happened. And...maybe even, PLOT?
> 
> Anyway, I'm going to keep writing this as long as the inspiration lasts.

The next time they visit Mystacor, it’s also in another quest to help Adora learn the Art of Relaxing. One week after the battle of Bright Moon, the damage has mostly been repaired and now her only orders are to take some time and heal. Unfortunately this was easier for Queen Angella to command than for Adora to obey. Even without Shadow Weaver’s “help”, Adora found herself to be just as bad at doing nothing as she was on her last visit.

While she could appreciate the joys of getting a full nine hours of sleep, lazing about just seemed... wrong? Wasteful?

If it was just a matter of not showing weakness, she would find a place to hide for a few days until the wounds on her back finally healed. She had actually attempted to pursue that plan, but Bow and Glimmer had convinced Swift Wing, the traitor, to help track her down. That was when the Queen had ordered them to Mystacor for physical…and mental? health.

It was…not going well.

She was in the middle of trying to find the words to explain to Glimmer and Bow that the aroma therapy smells of their latest Relaxation Attempt we’re making her dizzy when Gimmer’s Aunt rescued her.

The woman appeared in a swirl of her cape with bright smiles and cheer. “Oh Glimmer, dearest, I need to borrow your friend for a moment. You don’t mind do you?” She asked, taking one of Adora’s hands and pulling her to her feet.

“Auntie, what are you *doing*? We’re trying to help Adora relax!” Glimmer whined, trying, and failing to grab Adora’s arm.

Seeing an opportunity, Adora waved her free hand and smiled sheepishly. “No, no! It’s ok. This wasn’t working super well for me. You guys should enjoy it and we can ... uh, try something else later”

Glimmer frowned, brow furrowed, but Bow shook his head meaningfully at her. “Don’t work Adora too hard Aunt Casta,” he said lightly. “Why don’t we meet up for dinner?”

Adora smiled gratefully at Bow. He was a good friend. “That’s a good plan,” she said. And Castaspella agreed.

***

It was only as she found herself being lead into the less public areas of Mystacor that Adora remembered that she had no idea what Castaspella needed her help with. Was it too late to ask? She didn’t want to upset Glimmer’s Aunt.

She was in the middle of trying to decide how to ask when Castaspella pulled her into a room with a dramatic flourish. The room had floor to ceiling windows along one wall and part of the ceiling was glass as well. The late morning sun streamed in, illuminating the...odd contents of the room. Little baskets filled with colorful balls and sharpened sticks floated through the air like the floating steps in Glimmer’s room in Bright Moon. Against one wall was a floor to ceiling set of shelves also filled with colorful balls. There was a strange wooden contraption in one corner that had some kind of wheel attached to it…

Before she could take in all the details, Adora realized she’d been quiet a bit too long, and turned to look back at her host, apology stuck in her throat.

But Castaspella just smiled brightly at her. “I knew I liked you!” She said approvingly. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

“It’s certainly... very colorful?” Adora hedged. She likes the colors a lot, but she wasn’t sure what any of this was, well, for? After an awkward pause she took a deep breath and quietly muttered, “I’m sorry, I have no idea what this is?” She reflexively closed her eyes so that she would not have to see the disapproval or anger on Castaspella’s face at the admittance of weakness.

“Oh!” Castaspella said, and she did not *sound* disapproving or annoyed. She seemed, happy? Adora opened her eyes to see Glimmer’s Aunt gesturing expansively around them. “This is my craft room! I keep my supplies here and often work in here as well. It’s my own little home within my home, as it were.”

Adora thought hard for a moment. “Is this, um, related to the uh, knitting...thing? Like Bow’s socks?”

Castaspella brightened even further if possible, “Bow showed you his socks?

“Uh, yes?”

“I knew I liked that boy! Oh, what did you think of them?” Castaspella asked, blinking rapidly and leaning unnervingly close to Adora.

Adora who had not thought much about them, leaned back as far as she could without stepped back.  “Uh, they fit him really well? They seemed a bit, a bit bright? But they matched his quiver? Oh, and I guess I didn’t realize that socks could have texture...” she trailed off awkwardly.

Castaspella was practically glowing with pleasure. “You noticed the texture!”

“Um, yeah...” Adora took a deep breath. While she was thankful for being saved from aroma therapy, she had no idea what Castaspella wanted from her or why they were here. Maybe, it would be ok to ask? Bow was always encouraging her to ask about these things, wasn’t he? She wasn’t in the Horde anymore, right? “Why did you need to see me again, Ma’am?”

“Oh, oh, right! Silly me,” Castaspella said. “Just a moment.” And then she turned around and practically leapt further into the room. Adora watched as the woman began searching through the floating baskets with in quite a frenzy. While Adora just... stood there. In the doorway. Like an idiot.

After a few minutes, Castaspella emerged from one basket, the one that had been furthest from the door, with a bright purple bag clutched in one hand. “There you are!” she crowed to herself.

“Adora, don’t lurk,” she called, dragging out the sound of Adora’s name in a way that made Adora’s heart clench painfully in her chest, even as her feet obeyed the implicit command.

“Is everything alright?”

Adora blinked as Castaspella’s words broke her out of her reverie. She was in Mystacor, she remembered. Shadow Weaver wasn’t here.

“Everything is fine!” Adora said as brightly as she could. “What’s that?”

Castaspella frowned thoughtfully for a moment before shrugging and holding up the bag for Adora to see. “This bag was a gift from my wonderful niece Glimmer! Isn’t it the cutest? It’s my favorite project bag. Well, for sweaters. I have bags for every size project, of course. But, I’m getting off track! I wanted to double check my sizing on your sweater.”

Without further ado, Castaspella reached into the bag and pulled out a bundle of red fabric with red and white strings hanging off of it. She dropped the bag onto one of low couches in the room and then fiddled with the fabric. After a moment, the bundle materialized into some kind of red conical frustum... white little white swords…that looked a lot like her Sword of Protection in half circle around the top.

Adora gaped, her earlier discomfort forgotten as she tried to understand what she was looking at. “You made this?”

“I did!” Castaspella said, sounding quite satisfied. “You are proving very knit-worthy, you know. It’s not even done yet.” She gestured to the bottom of the fabric where there was a series of open loops with a gray string running through them.

“Ok, now! What do you want to wear this with? Probably not your jacket? Oh, I should have had you bring appropriate under things. I think this is soft enough to be next to skin. But what if you’re allergic... oh, no, you’re not allergic to wool are you?” Castaspella looked at her expectantly.

Adora stood very still and did her best not to let her confusion show on her face. She wasn’t really sure what an “allergy” was. Or “wool”? She at least knew from Glimmer that a sweater was a warm long-sleeved garment. “It should be fine,” she said after a long moment. She hoped Castaspella didn’t notice. And then, realizing the other question she hadn’t answered, added, “I can take off my jacket?”

And then she awkwardly did that, slipping of the garment, folding it and setting it down on the couch beside Castaspella’s bag.

“So what do I need to do?” She asked, unconsciously assuming parade rest.

“Just stand there,” Castaspella instructed. Then she stepped closer to Adora.

Adora stood very still as Castaspella held up the red and white fabric and dropped it over her head. One of her hands briefly brushed against Adora’s cheek in the process. Adora determinedly stared straight ahead as the hand moved away and then began fiddling with the red fabric, tugging it this way and that.

After a few moments, Castaspella stepped back with a huge smile on her face. She waved her hand and a mirror appeared in front of Adora.

Adora stared at herself in surprise. The white swords she had noticed before were arrayed on the fabric so that they formed a ring around her neck. She turned around and glanced over her shoulder and saw that ring went all the way around. In doing so, she found herself slightly tangled in the strands of yarn coming off her sweater.

She brought a hand up to touch the yarn, an apology on her lips. And then she immediately moved her hand to the red and white fabric across her chest. “Soft,” she mumbled to herself.

“You like it?” Castaspella asked.

“It’s incredible,” Adora said honestly. She had never felt anything like it. “I love it”

Castaspella practically crowed with glee. “You’re such a sweet child. It’s only a quarter done and you’re already showering me with praise! But the fit in the shoulders seems about right. Now, hold still a moment longer, I need to take some measurements.”

With a wave of her hand, the mirror disappeared as Castaspella held up a cloth measuring tape fin her other hand. “How long do you like your sleeve to be?”

Adora wasn’t sure how to respond, but Castaspella seemed undeterred by her silence. “Three quarter sleeve, wrist length? Down to your knuckles? The joy of custom made is that it can fit exactly how you want, after all!”

Was this some kind of trick question? Adora narrowed her eyes in thought. “How long do you normally make them?” she hedged.

“Hmm, probably wrist length.”

“That works.”

Castaspella nodded with a surprising amount of seriousness and then used the tape to measure the length of Adora’s arm.

“And what about overall length?” She asked.

“Let’s just go with the standard,” Adora responded, just barely keeping the questioning note out of her voice. “The standard” seemed like a safe answer, at least for now.

“Alright then,” Castaspella said and then she did some quick measurements of Adora’s torso before practically leaping for her bag.

Adora watched bemusedly as the sorceress pulled out a notebook and began scribbling frantically. Once it was clear that the woman’s attention was diverted for the moment, Adora gently pulled the quarter-finished sweater over her head and took a closer look at it.

On one side the fabric seemed to be made of perfect little v’s, on the other there was a complicated array of short red and white bits. Adora brought the fabric closer and closer to her face as she tried to figure out how exactly this thing worked. She’d never seen anything like it in the Horde. All of their clothing was made by machines.

“Do you have any experience in the fiber arts?” A voice came from directly behind her.

Adora bit back a scream and leaped into the air. But she was well trained. She twisted in the air, barely feeling the pull of the scabs on her back, as she tucked the sweater safely under one arm and reached for her sword.

And it was just Castaspella, who, as always, seemed completely unbothered by Adora’s strange behavior. “Well?”

“Uh,” Adora faltered. She wasn’t entirely sure what “fiber arts” were? But maybe she could get around that? Castaspella seemed to like talking about her knitting. Whatever knitting was. “Could you tell me how you made this? I’ve never seen anything like it, I mean, besides Bow’s socks.”

Castaspella’s face turned solemn, making Adora’s stomach sink slightly with anxiety. “Adora, dear, I can do more than tell you.” And then the woman’s expression shifted into an infectious smile. “I can teach you!”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is probably going to end up as a lengthy exploration of the long term effects Shadow Weaver has had on Adora's mindset. Plus knitting! I'd really like to know what you think of this fic so far?
> 
> Patterns in this chapter:
> 
> Bow's socks are Erica Lueder's [Hermione's Everyday Socks](https://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/hermiones-everyday-socks) in yellow yarn. (Insert your own favorite heel and toe, of course.) Do you think Castaspella knits cuff-down or toe-up?
> 
> Adora's sweater is a stranded yolk sweater inspired by Jennifer Steingass' [Fern & Feather](https://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/fern--feather), but instead of ferns/feathers there are swords.


End file.
